


Falling

by ShezzasCompanion, the_east_wind_is_coming



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Anxiety Attacks, F/M, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, Not Season/Series 03 Compliant, Original Character(s), PTSD Sherlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 11:16:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4477247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShezzasCompanion/pseuds/ShezzasCompanion, https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_east_wind_is_coming/pseuds/the_east_wind_is_coming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Sherlock waits on the few days for Mycroft to have his name cleared, he realizes that everything around him is falling apart. Only then does he realize that he too is falling apart, but thankfully he has Elizabeth Watson to lean on while he waits for everything to clear... Or will she be taken away just like everything else in his life that matters?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling

_“I owe you a fall, Sherlock… I. Owe. You.” The consulting criminal’s voice was haunting, the way he circled Sherlock as if the detective was his prey. “Soon, it’ll be all over… For you and that nurse of yours.”_

_ It was then that Jim stopped pacing, looking over to something with a smirk. Sherlock couldn’t help but follow the other man’s gaze, landing on the sight of Liz being held by gunpoint by Sebastian Moran. Before he could react, the sniper pulled the trigger and Sherlock could help but cry out for his lover. _

__

* * *

 

“ELIZABETH!” Sherlock screamed, shooting up in his bed as he felt the warm tears streaming down his face. Quietly, he stood and looked to the empty spot on his bed as well as the empty spot on the nightstand where her pager would be. She had mentioned earlier something about a double shift, how they were over working her ever since the incident with the death on the operating table a few weeks before her probation. He quickly dug around through the sheets before locating his mobile and shot of a couple texts to the nurse.

**_[Sent to: Bee]  
[Sent: 00:34:57]_ **

****_Are you at work? SH  
When are you off? I need you. SH_   
****_Actually, can you call? SH_

****

He rarely made phone calls but he needed the comfort of her voice, his body shaking as he made his way to the empty living with the television on just for background noise and a comfort for his anxiety. He looked to his right hand, cursing as it started to shake and clenched it into a fist as if to prevent it from continuing to shake but let go, giving up on stopping it.

Elizabeth felt her mobile vibrate in the pocket of her scrub bottoms as she finished adjusting the IV pump for the patient she was checking on. The nurse glanced over to the woman currently in her care before turning back to double check the drip was set correctly.

As she moved to exit the room she made note on the schedule hanging by the door of the time and date and the dosage of the medication before signing off on it.

Once back at the nurses station she pulled out her mobile, finding three messages waiting for her. Her brow crinkled slightly as she frowned at the time stamp on the message.

It was unusual for Sherlock to text her this late, though the moment she opened them, it was obviously clear why.

She dialed his number after a quick glance around to make sure that there where others making rounds. One. Two.

He answered on the end of the second ring and he waited for her to speak first.

“Hello, Lock. Yes I am at work, I get off in about ten minutes.” She said, answering the questions he sent her. “Are you okay”

The detective answered her call with a shaky response, just as shaky as his body at the moment. “H-Hi…. Th-Think we could meet up rather than you just show?” He managed to get his thoughts out as coherent as possible despite the oncoming panic attack.

“I just… I need to see you.” He murmured, continuously clenching and unclenching his right hand though the action wasn’t helping all that much. He quietly walked around the flat to see if pacing was a good thing, his ramblings getting worse. “I know this great Greek… or was it Thai… Anyways, hungry? Want to eat… I just… I want to make sure you are okay…”

_ “I owe you.” _

“SHUT UP!” He shouted at the voice inside his mind, before whimpering to the nurse on the other side of the phone. “I’m sorry… It’s getting worse and I’ve been taking the medication but NOTHING is working.” He muttered, pulling his hand back as if to punch the wall or any surface near him but instead dropped his arm back to his side. “I just can’t function like this, Liz… I can’t.”

She could hear the shakiness in his voice as he spoke and she leaned back to glance at the clock, though it only two minutes had passed.

“Breathe Lock.” Elizabeth said “Just take a nice long breath okay, just focus on that for a minute.”

Anxiety and panic attacks was something he had been dealing with since he had returned and it was often worse after waking up from a nightmare especially if he was alone and there was nothing there to ground him.

“Meeting up sounds good, there doesn’t have to be food, but you can come down and wait for me in the lobby. I should be clocked out by the time you get here.” She looked up as one of her colleagues stood in front of her, eyebrow raised slightly as she waved them away slightly.

“It’ll be alright, want me to stay on the phone with you? Would that make things a little better?”

The detective let out a soft whimper. “But…But you did eat right?” He mumbled, starting once more to pace the flat as he looked for his coat and scarf. The panic was dying down but not as much as the two would want, his body still shaking.

_ “This was all your bloody fault, Sherlock.” John sneered, the tone just as vicious as the majority of London towards him. _

Sherlock let out a soft growl, shouting once again at the voices in his head. “Shut up. Shut up. SHUT UP!” He screamed, punching the wall nearest him and cried out as his fist hit the wall in an incorrect manner. “Fuck, fuck fuck..” He murmured before realizing he was still on the phone with Elizabeth,

“I think it would be best if you stayed on the line.” He murmured, finally locating his coat and scarf and put them on with a shaky hand. “I just need to get a taxi or to the tube without being attacked by the whole of London.”

Elizabeth heard the crunch against the wall before Sherlock’s swears came through the mobile.

“What did you do?” She asked, concern coloring her voice as she tried to keep it low as to not alert those she worked with that there was something wrong. She had her back towards the other nurses that were finishing up their paperwork. “Please say nothing too major.”

She pulled the stack of charts for the patients she had been taking care of, making sure everything was in order for the nurse that was going to take them over at shift changed.

“I think a cab would be best, it’s just you and no one else really, not to mention not a lot of people are up at the moment, so things should be alright, hopefully, if not I’m here on the line.” She stated as she signed off on the bottom of the chart in front of her. “Be careful okay?”

Quickly and quietly, the detective made his way out the door and towards the street, locking the door behind him as he looked around the street. Seeing as it was nearing 1 am, the street was seldom busy with a few drunks stumbling home confused from a nearby pub.

“I just punched a wall funny, Liz… I’ll have you check it out when I get there, if that’s alright with you.” He returned, sticking his arm out for a passing taxi that chose to continue driving. “Fucking arsehole…” He murmured to himself before having a successful call, entering the second taxi that pulled up in front of 221b and muttered the address to the driver, resting his head on the back of the seat.

“I’m worried as to what will become of me, Liz… Greg and Mycroft keep visiting when you’re at work… They keep trying to make me take cases I’m not ready for… They say it’ll help me but in fact they’re rushing me and I feel like holing myself up for the rest of my days only to come out when needed.” He murmured, ignoring the beep in his ear that indicated a new text. “I just can’t function properly anymore.”

“Yeah, I think it would be best if I did, I won’t clock out until I do alright? Just need to make sure that nothing is broken.” The nurse stated. “I’ll wait for you in the lobby okay? My shift replacement is here anyway.”

She gave the girl, named April, a soft smile as she stood up and handed her the files moving the mobile slightly as she gave her a quick rundown of the patients. April gave her a soft nod and told her goodbye as Elizabeth stood and made her way to the elevator.

“Greg and Mycroft are just looking out for you, they are worried about you.” She stated as she pushed the button for the elevator. “They just want to make sure you’re holding up okay, but you don’t have to take cases if you aren’t ready, you can when you are.”

The older men were worried about him, Greg had openly voiced it and Mycroft’s glances and actions spoke more than his words.

“It’ll take for you to get back to how they used to be, You were seriously injured.” The word tortured was hanging in the air, but not one she was willing to say as the elevator doors opened and a few nurses stepped out. “It’s not going to get better overnight love.”

Sherlock was grateful that she hadn’t used the word _tortured_ seeing as he was still having issues coming to terms with the whole thing, quietly listening to his lover speak the truth which he wasn’t ready to grasp. “Well, that’s stupid.and I don’t like it.” He muttered, ignoring the nasty glares from the driver as they made their way to Bart’s. “Also, I need to work on remembering London and the shortcuts again… It’s probably best for the next time I head out so I can avoid people and their rude stares and comments.”

As if on cue, the cab looked back and spoke up to Sherlock, looking him over. “Aren’t you that fraud who faked his death… The freaky detective who like death and shit?”

Sherlock fell silent, doing his best to ignore the man, who kept at it and continued to talk shit to him. “Why should I give an impostor a ride in my taxi? Why should anyone believe you after the shit you pulled…” The cabbie added, looking him over once more before pulling to a stop outside Bart’s. Without a word, Sherlock paid the man and exited the cab, ignore the man’s last call. “Go back to being dead, the world was better off without ya.”

“I…I’m here, Elizabeth.” Sherlock managed, shakily making his way into Bart’s and hung up his mobile, playing with the end of his scarf and picking of the lint that clung to it.

Elizabeth fell silent as she heard the way the cab driver spoke to Sherlock. Her blood boiling under the surface as she stepped into the elevator and slammed the side of the closed fist she didn’t remember making into the button next to the 1 on the panel.

She knew people weren’t too keen on Sherlock, not anymore, it was taking more time for Mycroft to come up with the evidence to prove Sherlock was indeed innocent of the claims Moriarty made, and in the meantime he was the one suffering.

Anger hit her lit a dagger at the last statement the driver made. The world was not better off without him, not in the least, at least not when it came to her. He made the world better.

“I’ll see you in a minute.” She said before he hung up as the elevator door opened and she stepped out as he opened the door, playing with his scarf looking down on the floor. She jogged to close the space between them.

“Sherlock.” She said softly as he looked up and she smiled softly at him as she placed a hand on the side of his face before looking over him.

 


End file.
